


You’re okay, right? Werewolf healing factor will withstand even Stiles Stilinski’s pesky libido and temporary forgetful mind.

by Leafontehwind



Series: Are we all just stumbling along until we get this right? [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Gen, M/M, Memories, Panic Attacks, and by things I mean things, things happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 17:12:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leafontehwind/pseuds/Leafontehwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or the one where this becomes a game changer. In which panic attacks are not fun, and Derek shows that he can comfort a distressed Stiles. </p><p>And  that one where their relationship progressed. </p><p>Yes, vague summary is vague.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You’re okay, right? Werewolf healing factor will withstand even Stiles Stilinski’s pesky libido and temporary forgetful mind.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trixafaerie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixafaerie/gifts).



> Okay! End of my very long update of doom. Well,there is more but that will be for next week. Still. This bit is dedicated to my BFFL who urged this chapter to, ahem, go a certain way.

The first thing that Stiles noticed was that there was a nice breeze coming in from his open window. Maybe it was the first thing he noticed because he was trying to calm his heart down. Because, currently it was apparently either trying to escape his chest or explode; neither of which was something that he approved of. He pretty much liked his heart where it was and on the functioning range of things. But, hey. It totally wasn’t his heart’s fault. Like at all. He definitely understood the mix of panic, apprehension, desire and the bit of hope. It was heady and confusing as all hell.

Stiles closed the door halfway and continued over towards his bed. It was weird, but, could swear that Derek was in the same exact spot he saw him last. He figured if Isaac had sent him up here, it was because he heard Derek moving or sensed something with his alpha; something. But, maybe Isaac was just letting him off the hook. At least in that respect, it was really nice of him. Stiles would have to remember to get the guy a cookie. A big one, with frosting. He could see the arm draped across the alpha’s stomach as if an unconscious effort to protect his still healing wound. Because there would be numerous enemies that would possibly enter Stiles' window at any given moment.

He didn't _look_ awake and this time Stiles didn't feel like rousing him. Given the enormity of horrible things that happened in Derek's life on a regular basis, Stiles figured he was probably getting even less sleep then even he was. Come to think of it, he could imagine the last time the big guy had a decent nights sleep was probably since before the fire at the Hale house, Before everyone he cared about died at the hands of Kate 'I'm an enormously unstable psycho bitch' Argent. Stiles couldn't help the frown curling his lips at the small if obvious observation. Nah, he wasn't going to wake Derek up. Even if this wasn't exactly the same as a good and decent solid REM type of sleep, it was probably better then what he had been experiencing lately. So, yeah.

Stiles carefully pulled the blanket up from under Derek's feet and covered him up. Sure it was summer and werewolves didn't seem to feel the cold, but when you were sick, covers where pretty much necessary. Maybe it was mostly just a comfort thing, the feel of being safe and surrounded. Who knows, it could go back to being a kid. And no matter how old Stiles got, if he was sick he liked being tucked in by his dad. He also liked to think that anytime his dad fell asleep or got a little tipsy and _then_ fell asleep, he appreciated waking up to a blanket over him. It helped people think that they were being taken care of, loved.

Pausing for a moment (and claiming temporary insanity), he lifted a hand and ran it over the alpha’s hair in a pat that nearly verging in an almost comforting caress. Even if Derek was asleep, the gesture was supposed to convey that everything was going to be okay. That he wasn’t alone. It was the same thing that he had seen his dad do those times in the hospital, when his mom had fallen asleep after a treatment or when a doctor came in to give them results. It was the same little movement that he did when his dad wasn’t around and he was curled up on the hospital bed next to his mom.

It had been a while since he thought, really thought about that part of his life. He constantly thought about his mom, looked at pictures and tried to remember exactly what she smelled like. Recalled days when she had let him help with dinner or baking, when the three of them went on day trips to an amusement park and lazy Sunday mornings where the had large breakfasts and watched old movies. The musicals were among his mom’s favorite, while his dad wouldn’t mind a good eighties buddy cop movie (only the ones that were actually appropriate for a kid of Stiles’ age) or an old westerns. 

But that wasn’t where his mind was treading right now. They weren’t the nice, warm, if not hazy memories of the good times. His mind was going back to that last year. Sense memories flooding straight back to the surface. The constant lull of the machines, the bleeps that read things going on with his mother that he didn't quite comprehend. The itchy papery fabric of the hospital gown that he used to cling to no matter how much it irritated him. The image of his mother laying there looking impossibly small. All of these were events of his life that made him grow up far too fast in ways he didn't get until he noticed how others dealt with things in their lives.

Stiles felt his chest constrict painfully, making it difficult to draw in a breath. The sickening feeling of loss swelled within him seeming to spread through his entire body all the way into the freaking marrow of his bones. It was the feeling that plagued him every so often and right now it made Stiles feel like he was drowning in it that it was so thick and strong. Shit. He wasn't going to have a panic attack right now. He. Was. Not. Seriously, if anyone could make something like this go away something just with the sheer enormity of their will; it'd totally be Stiles. Even despite the fact that he _knew_ from sheer experience that will just didn't cut it in these cases. Again, denial.

At least, the very _fucking_ least, he needed to get out of his room and away from Derek. Maybe head to the bathroom because there was really no need for anyone to see him like this, not even Scott. Not right now. Stiles quickly turned away and was about to hightail it to his bathroom to spend the next five to ten minutes trying to calm himself the hell down. However, his escape was thwarted by warm fingers closing around his wrist. He refused to look back, to see Derek's perfect and impossible to read face while his own was most likely an open book with illustrations for the easily confused. The werewolf's thumb moved back and forth across the inside of his wrist for a minute before there was a gentle tug. That was what forced Stiles to turn around because...what in the what?!

The eyes looking at him were not red like the last time he looked into them but just plain Derek grey green. The thought fluttered through his mind quickly wondering if it would have snapped him out of panic mode if his eyes had been red, kicked his ass back into survival mode or something. "Sit down."

Stiles drew in a few shallow breaths that seemed to be doing no good before attempting words, all of which seemed to run together. "Is that an ord-" 

"Please."

He didn’t have it in him to argue or ask questions, plus he didn’t actually think that he could together a few sentences. With little grace, he plopped down onto the bed, trying not to think of those memories of his mom but instead more just flooded his mind. When he had been taken to the cafeteria by a nurse and when he came back, his dad was crying, head rested against his mom’s chest while she slept. Only she wasn’t sleeping, but Stiles hadn’t known that then. Tears were stinging his eyes and Stiles used his free hand to wipe his eyes angrily. Once he was sitting down on the edge of his bed, Derek pulled Stiles down and snaked an arm around him so that he was pressed against the werewolf’s side. He couldn’t even rightly freak out about this since he was mainly trying to focus on getting enough air into his lungs, to stop the onslaught of emotions that came with thinking about his mother. His fault. Somehow it was all his fault about what happened. His fault that his dad was only half whole, his fault that at any moment his dad could drink too much and revel in the misery that was bound to follow when those emotions were uncorked.

Fuck.

He hated panic attacks. It had been so long since he had had one put this just... this just came out of nowhere. The next couple of minutes were a bit of a blur, a hand running soothing circles over his back and side, his own eyes clamped shut tightly and his hand gripping in a handful of his shirt that Derek was wearing and twisting it.

When he could hear more than the rushing of his heartbeat in his ears, Stiles heard Derek murmuring soothing things to the top of his head. Slowly, as everything came back into focus and he started to feel more, for lack of a better word, normal, he became hyper aware of ever inch of him that touched Derek. Somehow his right leg wound up tangled in the other man’s, the length of his body was pressed against solid muscle, an arm pressed against his back... And then there was the warmth of breath against his hair, lips brushing against his short hair as Derek spoke.

“You okay?” It was the first time that Stiles actually registered what the alpha was saying. He busied himself for a minute straightening out the fabric of Derek’s shirt almost apologetically. When he was finished, Stiles left his hand splayed over Derek’s chest, possibly just using it as an excuse for the contact. It helped him feel grounded. Derek felt all around him right now and Stiles would have thought it would have been too much, it just felt nice.

Stiles licked his lips, “Uh, yeah. Just a minor panic attack from the resident hyperactive teen. No big deal.” And because he was of course a glutton for punishment, Stiles craned his head and chanced a look at Derek. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see. He figured maybe this was like a pack thing or something, that when they were in distress, Derek came in and comforted them; even though he knew Derek had made some bad decisions as the alpha, he was better than he was given credit for. 

Derek was looking down at him and it was one of the few times that it wasn't lined with a certain hardness. Of course it was still his face and seemed to be freaking sculpted or something but... For some reason it looked softer? Damn near concerned. No, strike that. Definitely concerned, there was concern there lining ever plane and curve of his features. So. Holy crap. That was all for him.

His amber eyes looked over the werewolves face searchingly, as if this whole new side of Derek that he didn't exactly know could possibly and miraculously allow him to get a clearer read into the way Derek ticked. Definitely better then deciphering glares and eyebrow heavy expressions. But maybe he was in too deep and far too inexperienced to really know what any of this meant. Then his eyes landed on a pair of lips that he for the life of him could not forget about, especially since earlier today.

With some newfound courage or another dose of temporary insanity (jury was still out on that one and Stiles was completely sure that they would convene later and share their verdict on the matter) he stretched his neck further and closed the distance between their lips.

The kiss was barely anything, a mere soft press of skin without any pressure or passion behind it. But, it still totally still counted. It did. It was going down in the books as his first kiss because that time in the second grade when Mary had kissed him on the corner of his lips and then shoved him back onto the black top totally didn’t count. It was fine but the lack of, well, _anything_ made Stiles freak the hell out. The only way that this could be worse would be if Derek tossed him across the room and into a wall for threatening his ultra werewolf manliness.

Stiles bolted upward an away from Derek. He was now sitting up turned away from his bedmate and smacked a hand against his forehead. Ohmyfuckinggod. What the hell was he thinking? Stiles was not only confused, he was freaking mortified. He wondered if the saying was true, that someone could _literally_ die of shame because he was about two steps shy of actually doing that right now.

"I'm so sorry.” He shook his head and would have scooted off the bed but his hands were shaking and his feet felt like he had just run fifteen suicides at Lacrosse practice because Finstock felt particularly frisky. “Please don't throw me into anything or threaten to rip my throat out with your teeth and just blame this on Stiles running on very little sleep and having just suffered a panic attack that left him light headed and confused and completely, I mean completely unaware of what he was doing with the laying and then the... The kissing. Oh god. What the hell?!"

He felt weight shifting on the bed but refused to meet the man's eyes. It had to be because Derek wasn't at full strength, right? The reason why he wasn't threatening to choke the life out of him or speaking in that growl-y voice with all it's alpha power telling him to never ever do that again. That... or he felt bad for him. No. No. There was no way he was going to go around being pitied by Derek freaking Hale.

Suddenly there was a hand under Stiles' chin, forcing him to face the werewolf and surprisingly not to see angry red eyes or pitying grey green ones. On his face was a schooled expression, less open than the one he saw before the (epically disastrous) kiss, probably because he was so used to keeping nearly all of his real emotions so far below the surface. The alpha pursed his lips together-- Stiles was completely aware that Derek knew what pursing his lips actually meant, but, then there it was. He was doing it. Ladies and gentlemen, we’d like to introduce you to the many secrets and talents of Derek Hale.

"Stiles..." He had heard Derek say his name countless times in only a few different ways. Usually there was a tinge of anger, but not this time. There was no warning, no question in the way he said it. His voice was soft and there was an undercurrent of something else there that Stiles couldn’t quite put his finger on right now. They stayed like that for a moment, staring at each other and breathing in the moment. Stiles wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do and for once he decided to keep quiet and just keep staring into Derek’s eyes searching for anything to give the man away.

Derek’s hand shifted, causing Stiles to swallow in nervous anticipation before Derek's rough thumb ran along his lips softly, tracing them from corner to corner, top and bottom. And if that wasn’t something that could short-circuit his brain, then what happened next could liquify it.Send his awesomely talented brain to drain out of his ears in a great goopy, undignified mess. 

Suddenly there was a lot less distance between their faces and Derek was kissing him. Actually kissing him. Not just pressing his lips against his like Stiles had. Their lips were moving against each other’s in a tender kiss. Just when he thought it was going to be it, a tongue traced his lips and urged them open. As the kiss deepened, Stiles had to do something with his hands. They just could not sit idly by. One moved to the back of the werewolf’s neck while the other strayed back to his chest. 

Derek guided them back so they were laying on the bed, Stiles half laying on top of him as they kissed languidly. Stiles pulled back for air, forehead resting against Derek’s and let out a small laugh. That had just happened. And Stiles was going to be damned if it just ended there. This time, he crushed his lips against Derek’s, making up for what he lacked in experience with enthusiasm. They kissed the way they argued, each one pushing and demanding, fighting to be heard. Stiles decided bold was the way to go, drawing from some unknown and newfound source of confidence and lifted one leg over to the other side of Derek’s hip, straddling the older man. He wanted to feel the press of their bodies as they kissed; he wanted everything. 

Stiles slid a hand through Derek’s hair, which was impossibly soft. He loved the feel of the inky black strands between his fingers, he wasn’t sure if it was just because he was apparently allowed to touch and take and be incredibly greedy... The reason, he wasn’t sure but he could probably spend hours just raking his hands through this head of hair and be completely content. As he arched his back and shifted to re-position himself, his nails bit into scalp, eliciting a growl from the wolf, which Stiles figured he probably should find so incredibly hot. 

Derek’s hands rested on his hips, steadying Stiles before one began running up his side, drawing up his shirt as it went. A shiver ran down his spine as fingers drank in the feel of his skin. The movement however caused the kiss to break, a hiss of pain escaping the werewolf’s lips. Stiles leaned back, confusion contorting his features before he looked down at Derek’s body. The white shirt was spotted with blood near the bottom half of it where Stiles had been pressed against him.

How the hell could he forget that Derek was practically ripped apart less than two days ago? 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Stiles scrambled off of the alpha, frowning to himself as he laid down on the empty half of the bed. “Kind of got caught up there, I didn’t even think about... you’re okay, right? Werewolf healing factor will withstand even Stiles Stilinski’s pesky libido and temporary forgetful mind.”

There was a low chuckle from beside him, which, okay, was more like a pleasant rumbling in the older man’s chest. The sound made Stiles’ own heart skip a beat. Derek rolled onto his side slowly and moved in for another slow kiss. It seemed to be something that was supposed to reassure him.

There was a knock at the door, causing Derek to tense before he visibly relaxed, seeing that it was only Isaac. The beta looked almost apologetic at interrupting, something that Stiles totally had to give him points for. If Scott knew what was going on up here, he would probably have on his Scott bitch face 2.0. “Stiles, the Sher- your dad is home.”

Seriously his dad is the biggest cock block ever. Not that he was... not that they were. Well, okay. Whatever, he was the biggest interrupter of a random make out session ever.


End file.
